4837/The Interview

The Interview
Date of Scene:	06 July 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Mason talks with Emma about joining the school. A conversation that says a lot, and asks more.
Cast of Characters:	Mason Steele, Emma Frost

---

Mason Steele has posed:
    This is it. Mason actually dressed with a tie. He cleans up well, a pink dress shirt with a blue tie and slacks that match. Don't expect dress shoes though, his designer sneakers are way more comfortable, and this is 2026. A totally acceptable style among young people.
    He really knew very little about the staff. He heard that Xavier was a telepath, so he's out. Jean Grey, telepath, she's out. Ms. Braddock? Word is she is hot, but also a telepath, she's out. That leaves Emma Frost. She's a businesswoman or something Andrea had said. That seems much safer. He made the call, asking for a time he could talk, and given the drama with Andrea, his fame, and everything else, he asked if they could meet someplace other than the school. He even showed up early, walking through the doors of the club, and making his way to the attached dining area of the club.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost was already at the club. She'd decided to luncheon there, out on the patio, and when Mason shows up, he's shown through the dining area, to the patio, and given a seat at her table. As luck would have it, the late hour of the meeting - between lunch and dinner - has meant that there is only one other table occupied, and as per usual etitquette, that pair of businessmen are seated as far away from Emma as the patio allows.

Of course Emma has heard of Mason. Well, about Mason, mostly, from Andrea. But not as much as she might like. Though for the intents and purposes of this meeting she can employ her skills upon the boy - likely without impunity; she doesn't expect he has any skills to detect or withstand her. Of course, she has been wrong before.

"If you're hungry, please order. I, myself, have already eaten. That shouldn't stop you, though."

She smiles a small, cool smile, and regards the boy. Already reaching out for his surface thoughts.

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason's first surface thoughts are rather scattered. Fear of the meeting, fear of discovery, fear of telling this person that he is a mutant, but as she speaks, the thoughts focus to...well, they are of Emma in a much more risque outfit than she is wearing. He's really good at not showing it externally.
    "Thanks Ms. Frost," he says, sitting down politely. He doesn't look at the menu, but when the waiter comes by he orders. "Beef Wellington," he says, handing the menu over. He folds his hands beneath the table, leaning forward for a moment. "Really appreciate you meeting with me," he says, and though his thoughts betray a nervousness, his vocal ability to hide it shows some practice. "I've been really looking forward to it." Definitely not looking forward to it.

Emma Frost has posed:
There's a soft sort of chuckle from Emma as the boy lies to her, and she quirks a brow at him. She doesn't address him until after she nods to the waiter, and requests that fresh drinks be brought for herself - and something appropriate to the young man's age and meal.

When the waiter has removed himself, Emma regards Mason quietly before speaking, giving a soft shrug of her perfectly outfitted shoulders (certainly not in any such outfit as he might have scampering through his mind.. oh the joys of listening in on teenaged boys..).

"I see. So you've been looking forward to this meeting?" The quirked brow relaxes. "I highly doubt that. Not unless you plan on changing careers, and even then I don't have a reputation for being the most welcoming of people, so I'm going to assume this isn't about business and you're being nothing but polite while racking up your courage to actually broach the matter you wished to see me about. Hrm?"

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason's whole mind seems to stop and go deadpan, but that smile doesn't crack. "Well, I know something about your school," he says after a moment. "Andrea has told me about it." And it is a little uncomfortable a subject. Maybe I should say I'm looking forward to the conversation having already happened." His mental words, while they meet up with what he's saying, it's clear he's using a far more formal vocabulary than is his nature. "Your school takes on people who are a little different, and I might be that kind of different." -Who are mutants, say it pussy. Why couldn't she just order wine? I could really use it.- He doesn't.
    He rubs down the arms on his hair which stand up at the moment, his first sign of discomfort externally, and he grabs the water in front of him, taking a drink, and letting a partly melted cube enter his mouth.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is the master of Boardrooms. She's quite comfortable sitting and staring down those who think they know better than, or who outrank, or who plain old think women don't belong in business. Her stare has reduced many a man to a stuttering, gibbering shadow of himself in business settings, and she's not felt a pang of guilt once over it.

Mason, and his discomfort? Child's play. She doesn't even have to employ the stare.

"I see. So, you know about my school - which isn't mine, by the way. I'm employed there like so many others." For her own reasons. Namely: one Julian Keller. "And that we're different."

There's a nod, and the arrival of the waiter with drinks. Mason being given a delightfully refreshing looking mocktail, while Emma, herself, enjoys another scotch.

"Interesting. If that's a pitch for asking for enrollment, I'd give it a five. And that only for the fact you managed to mouth your way around the matter of 'a little different' while keeping a straight face. But honestly, what makes you think we should be interested in you, my dear man? Normally a musical savant would be banging on the doors of Juliard, if they weren't already banging on his."

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason genuinely grins. "Yeah, I'm there already," he says, a serious sense of pride at being able to say that 2 years before college. He's the youngest in the prep classes there. He clearly thinks he's the best, but it's the type of arrogance a person doesn't ever say out loud. The confidence level seems to even shoot through the roof for a moment, as she has touched on the one and only part of his life of which he believes he has power. "I don't want to say it in public," he says, now a little more stable in his demeanor. Sounds like the comment on his music was just the thing he needed.
    "I woulda given me a 3.5 personally, so thanks for the compliment. And really, I probably don't have any good reason you should be interested in me, unless you want to make your music program look good, but you already have Andrea for that." This much is completely honest. -In fact, if you could read my mind, you'd probably run screaming from the room.- The thought of sabotaging the entire engagement crosses his mind briefly, then it passes again.
    "I don't really let anybody know about this, for the obvious reasons," he admits. "It took me two weeks before even doing this much." -Two? Probably Four. Who's counting?-

Emma Frost has posed:
"I was feeling generous," Emma says with amusement. Enough so that it reaches her eyes for a moment. "And I know about your enrollement at Juliard. In fact, I'm aware that you put out more than that noxious claptrap that suffices for popular music." She says this as though she hasn't clubbed in her life and finds the notion distasteful - an out and out lie. "A four was really about the ballpark. Don't sell yourself short."

"As for the music program at Xavier's, I wouldn't know. My specialty is businesss." Business and, well, telepathy with all it's various and sundry applications. Not that she's quite ready to admit that, even if his little mental quips about her running are ever so tempting to reply in kind to.

But she hadn't gotten to where she was in the world by exposing herself prematurely, so the matter lies dormant for a time longer.

"Young man, let me tell you a thing, pussyfooting around the matter isn't going to earn you points. There is one reason, and one reason alone for someone like yourself to be interested in Xavier's. And I am not speaking of Andrea - though if I find out that she is why you're considering trapising your hindquarters to the school in some fit of mooning over the girl, you and I will have future words, and you will not like any of them. However."

And here he gets a very ponited look.

"Let me ask again, why should I be concerned that you are interested in Xavier's?"

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason mentally recoils a little at the thought of Andrea being his motivation. It would appear that she is part of his apprehension. It isn't that he has no attraction to her, it is more that it is a minefield he's not sure he wants to cross. The image of a wolfed out Andrea shredding a cyborg to a mess of blood and wires hits his mind, and seems to completely disable him for several seconds, long enough that it wouldn't take a telepath to know something is wrong.
    It's almost five seconds before he answers. "Maybe this was a bad idea," he says. "I know what you want me to say," he admits. "Don't get me wrong, I just am not sure I can." His professional shell is cracking. And thoughts of...eating limestone? Yes, he's definitely thinking of the limestones in the garden outside, and he has an overwhelming desire to go eat them.

Emma Frost has posed:
Again Emma's reply is forestalled by the arrival of the waiter with Mason's food. Emma waving an irritated hand of fingers at the man to dismss him when he might otherwise fawn and ask if all was to their satisfaction, and would Ms. Frost like anything else?

"Leave us," she tells the man curtly. And once again she regards Mason. This time rather more appraisingly than before, as if contemplating options and deciding the best course of action.

"I see," the woman nods. "Please. Eat while it's hot. The Wellington is excellent here. The chef was hired for that dish alone. As for the other..."

One fingertip taps delicately upon the tumbler of her drink. "We seem at something of an impasse young man. You don't need Xavier's with a scholarship to Juliard. The only reason one such as yourself might need our resources is if he were a mutant.. and never you mind worrying anyone can hear us. They're all distracted by lovely thoughts of conversations about the weather and golf scores and yesterday's society page. This is you and me, now. And only us."

The fingertip stops its dance upon her tumbler. "Shall we begin again, perhaps with a little less obfuscation on your part, and a considerable deal less on mine. Tell me, Mason, do you wish to learn to deal with your powers, or would you prefer to be unable to access them?"

Mason Steele has posed:
    "I don't even know the answer to that," he says. "I've used my powers maybe...five, six times?" he says. -And you eat rocks, does that count? So fricking weird. Don't tell her that part.- "Are using them and dealing with them the same thing?" he asks, as if that's a genuine thing to be clarified. He considers dealing with life as a mutant in a different category from using his powers. -I do NOT want to be a gardener. What else would my powers be good for anyway?-

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma is infinitely calm about this matter. And patient.

"You tell me, Mason. Do you feel that using your powers is the same as dealing with them? Or are you perhaps here out of some concern that your powers are using you?"

She lets him sit with that thought while she sips her scotch.

"I think we both know the answer to that, don't we. As for what good your powers would be anyway, I think I'd have to know a little bit more about just what it is you actually do, young man. And from there, I imagine we'll proceed to figuring out what the best course of action to support you is."

There's a soft laugh, then, one accompanied by a much gentled expression from the woman. "Trust me, Mason, with musical talents such as yours, you are not destined to be a gardener."

She lets the gentle chiding fall between them as a gesture of adknowledging her own part in the mutant community. A part that is not well known outside a few.

Mason Steele has posed:
    "Oh, shit." Mason says, his face going pale. It takes zero time for him to understand her statement. In fact, he seemed to piece it together when she asked if he was concerned that his powers were using him, perhaps a far quicker conclusion than most average teenagers would have. He responds with something else that most teenagers can't do. His surface thoughts silence almost instantly. He doesn't think back to the things that she has just heard, or the images in his mind that he saw. He doesn't seem to think forward to what he is about to say. Naturally, there are deeper thoughts still occurring, but as far as untrained mental defense, he seems uncharacteristically knowledgable.
    After a moment, he just thinks his response, cutting his beef wellington and taking a bite. "This is good," he agrees with her earlier statement. -I suppose there isn't much need for me to talk out loud anymore.- His mind comments in a rather conversational tone. -Wish I knew that about you before we met, would have approached this a whole lot different.-

Emma Frost has posed:
"Yes. Yes it is good. The chef also makes a delightful bourguignon. Perhaps next time we can enjoy that, hrm?"

There's an approving little nod from Emma, a nod that she buries in the gesture of picking up her glass and seeming to acknowledge his comments upon the meal.

~Indeed. However, I find it a lot more interesting to carry on conversations much as normal people do. Especially when they're unaware of any of the reality of the goings on at this table regardless. I must say, though, very nice shields. If you're untrained, I'm more than a little impressed.~

"So. It would seem that we've come to something of an understanding, yes? Though I'm curious, how might you have changed this conversation had you known?"

Mason Steele has posed:
    "I've had practice," the teen comments. "I dunno if hiding from my mom counts as training or not, and honestly?" Mason says, and somehow, he seems more at ease than he was before she revealed that she was a telepath, probably not a normal response. "I probably wouldn't have had it at all." He takes another bite, then adds, "And...I would have waited until I thought I knew what you'd rather wear." Clearly a reference to the image of her from earlier.

Emma Frost has posed:
"What I'd rather or not rather wear, young man, is not a concern of yours. And if you must, at least keep it out of my earshot, hrm?"

She doesn't seem particularly disturbed by the fact he had such thoughts. And as far as those went, they weren't as racy as many she's encountered over her lifetime.

"And your mother, hrm? I see I missed a few things when I was checking up on you. No matter. I take it things are somewhat fraught there? She's aware that you're a mutant?"

Mason Steele has posed:
    "Yeah, if she knew I was here, she'd probably be pretty pissed," he admits. "She doesn't want anybody to know, not after what happened to Alison Blaire. And...really I don't either. She says she knew I'd probably be one, so she was just waiting for it to happen, but she thought I'd get the same powers she had. Guess it didn't work out that way." The image of him hitting the ground, and the dirt beneath the grass pulverizing to sand comes up. His suicide attempt. There's not the same emotional attachment to the moment that there used to be, but the lingering raw emotion of fear and rejection still clings to it the way a mustard stain never quite leaves a white shirt.
    "It was a complicated time," he admits aloud. He takes another bite, neither mentally nor verbally commenting further.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma takes a long, slow inhale of a breath, letting the wash of the boy's emotions run over her, and through her, and past her.

"It happens like that sometimes. There are things that can be done, should you wish is. As for your mother, she needn't know. It isn't her future being bandied about here, but your own. And while you're hardly of legal status when it comes to many things, you're also hardly a minor when it comes to others, and frankly, she gets little say in the matter."

Emma shrugs dismissively.

"However, we can concern ourselves with her wishes later. The question is how do you wish to proceed? There are things that can be done for and with you at Xavier's. But there are also many things that can be done without the formality of that. Or the need to explain a split of focus between your studies at Juliard, and attendance at Xavier's."

Emma looks thoughtful. "Though, if you needed an excuse, the public seems to think you are attached to Andrea at the hip. It would suffice. You're already adept at the showmanship of lies. It would merely be another facade to who and what public Mason is: fawning ex-boyfriend making a desperate attempt at reclaiming the love of his life."

Another of those shrugs, along with a facial gesture that seems somewhat bored. "As far as coverups go, nobody would even begin to think you were there because you were one of us."

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason inwardly cringes. "Andrea really wants there to be something between us again. Julliard only is prep classes, they don't have a full curriculum for me, so I still have to go to school."
    He takes the last bite of beef wellington, swallowing before he speaks. "I'm not the one fawning, and she doesn't have to fake it. Besides, I'd get way less-" pussy. He didn't stop the thought quite as fast as his tongue, but he doesn't realize it. "It'd be harder to get a date if they think we're together. Unless you go for the homewrecker sort. And those girls are batshit crazy. Trust me." A smattering of such samples he has encountered pass briefly through his mind, they all look a little demonic in his mind's eye.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Oh, I think your first thoughts were more accurate," Emma says with dry amusement. "No worries, Mason. I'm a full grown woman, and I didn't reach this age without some experience with the opposite sex under my belt."

There's a shaking of head and a soft chuckle. "Fine, then. No need for a cover story. However, we may wish to resolve that little drama between the two of you before it causes further strife if you're joining the student body at Xavier's. There is enough you'll need to learn about your abilities that neither of you need the added stresses of the other."

A swallow is taken from her glass, but only after she's swirled the amber liquid within the tumbler and pondered it. "None of this answers what you want, Mason. As I said, you can be helped with or without Xavier's. I don't particularly believe in leaving those such as yourself floundering when they've managed to admit their needs and come asking for help. And I happen to be in a position to do something about the matter in either case."

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason's current line of thought grinds to a halt, and he backs up. "Wait, what do you mean?" he asks. "In either case?" "What is the other case?" he asks. He was not aware there was an option outside of going or not going to the school. Mason sits up a little straighter, and leans in, very curious about what this could mean.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Simply put," Emma answers, finishing the remainder of her scotch, "You can enrol as a student at Xavier's complete with all the advantages and disadvantages that offers one such as yourself. Oh.."

She smiles, and puts her glass down, shaking her head at the waiter who is hovering at the doorway.

"Oh you can remain as you are now, and I would consider private tutuledge. Either or."

"You needn't decide right this moment if you feel unready. You've found me once. I'm sure you can manage to contact me again with your decision should you need the time."

Mason Steele has posed:
    Mason's mind starts working around the possibilities in a remarkably disorganized fashion, the way that many people might when given such information.
    "I..." he starts, his mind not moving any faster than his mouth. "I think I should." He pulls out his wallet. "Thanks Ms. Frost," he says, grabbing the napkin and wiping his mouth. "You've given me a lot to think about. If Andrea asks...I told her I would talk to you. Could you just..." he motions vaguely. Dodge? Make something up? Come up with something that satisfies her without going into it? Yeah, option C is where his mind is.

Emma Frost has posed:
"Lie? Oh, my dear boy. That will cost you." Emma makes a dismissive gesture with a hand. "Shoo. I expect to hear from you shortly with an answer. I'd prefer not to have to hunt you down. Now go, I have other matters to attend to."